


Love, Loves

by Bittergum



Category: Original Work
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Ambiguous Age, As in they bounce around between school kids and college students because I'm indecisive, F/F, First Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Non-Linear Narrative, One Shot Collection, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, possible sexual content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:29:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittergum/pseuds/Bittergum
Summary: A collection of little, pre-canonical events, generally short and sweet, centered around my characters years before I'm ready to actually introduce them.





	Love, Loves

**Author's Note:**

> Be cool to mention now that if you wanna read about these characters at all, you can do so without checking their bios out, but if you wanted to, they can be found here: https://refsheet.net/bittergum#re-flower, and they will be revised time and time again, because as of this chapter, they are absolutely not finished at all.
> 
> Also I really don't know where this is going lmao it's just a bunch of rambles that are kinda personal but I wanna share anyways. Like one big vent fic about nothing ig. Idk just feeling idealistically, hopelessly romantic a lot and thought I'd share lmao

The lake was quiet, as it always was. The fish were probably in there swimming around, but the water was too murky to get a good look at them. Said water largely contrasted the heat of the sun, providing a well-needed shield of cool air, and even an even cooler place to relax instead of the grimy mud that held it. It was so cold that you almost thought you were going to succumb to the shock of it and drown, but you managed to adjust daily quickly. Daphne asked you why you jumped in instead of just walking in slowly, but she knows that you almost never thought about your actions before you put them in motion when you were with her.

When she asked you why you wanted to spend your day here rather than a cleaner outlet, you explained that the public pool didn’t have that fresh air your bodies begged for after the four days you spent isolated in her room, and the ocean was too far to have had any fun at because of how late the two of you had gotten out of bed. You don’t mention that the fountain in the square was also a candidate for today, though, because not only would she have shot you down before you could fully get it out of your mouth, but you’d probably have been kicked out within minutes of hopping in. 

Your hair is soaking wet, and it’s matted to the back of your neck when you swing your legs back down into the water. Daphne is sitting upon the large rock you two had set your belongings down on, smiling at you while she took your picture. Your sure she captured the moment you decided to hurl yourself off of that same rock a few minutes ago, and couldn’t wait for her to rib you on the way your face contorted as you slowly began to regret that decision. Her hair was perfectly wavy and soft, and the light that managed to push it’s way through the branches bounced off of it in a way that made her look radiant, like she had a halo. You watch her for a moment to admire the way her face scrunches up behind her well-used polaroid while she aims it down at you before you make one of your signature cartoony, ugly faces. She smiles even wider before her finger clicks down on the trigger.

“Got enough pictures?” You ask. You slowly propels yourself over to hang on the rock. Your legs were strong you guessed, but you sucked at treading water.

“There’s no such thing as having enough pictures,” she says. “but yeah, I think it hit its daily Lily-Limit.”

You chuckle. There was honestly nothing you loved more than alliteration, as dorky as it sounded. Well, except maybe hyperboles. You tilt your head and try to look cute, but you probably just look silly if her reaction is any indication. 

“What?” She asks. 

“Come swim with me.” You ask her with feigned, childlike whining, purposely over the top in an attempt to win her heart over before she can think about it. Of course, though, she’s never not thinking.

“I don’t know…” she wants to say no, but she’s always been to polite for that.

Usually you don’t like pushing people, but you tended to with her. You double up your expression, but she doesn’t look like she’s budging.

“Please?” You drag it out, deciding to double up on your tone as well. She just hums uncertainly. “It’s not even that cold!”

“It’s just…” She trails off. You know what it’s really about. Well, really, it could just be that the water is too dirty for her liking, and you couldn’t blame her for it, because you were half tempted to not go in yourself. At it’s core, though, it’s probably about what her parents would say, and though you understood it, it was, frankly, kind of fucking ridiculous.

“Daffy…” You beg again, intertwining her fingers with yours. She watches you with, her dull brown eyes reflecting the gears in the head as they turned. Her mouth slowly coiled into a soft smile. You smiled back. 

“Ok, but I’m going to walk in like a normal person.” She says, bumping the top of your head half-heartedly with a loose fist. You laugh and follow her as she walks down around the rock and dips her toes in. She grimaces. “You said it wasn’t cold.”  
“I said it wasn’t that cold.” You correct. She feigns annoyance as she throws her shirt onto your shared pile of crap, and you smile at her to let her know she doesn’t need to remind you of what an ass you were.

You hold her hand as she slowly wades down into where the water comes up to her waist, then swim out where to where you need to start treading again. She takes a deep breath and follows you, gasping a little as she forcefully plunges her body into the cold depths of the lake. When she gets to you, the bottom tips of her hair are floating on top of the water.   
“N-not that cold my ass, Lily.” She hissed. “It’s fucking freezing.” 

“Yeah, it is.” You smile. She sighs and dunks the rest of her body under the surface.

You two only swim for a short time, because yeah, it actually was fucking freezing. Once you felt yourself step on a fish you decided you were over it for the day, and she followed you out to assure you that you probably didn’t hurt it. You wrapped yourselves up and laid back on that hot rock, sunbathing for a bit to try and warm up. You talked, of course, about everything and anything, and it was mostly your fault. You said that she never not thinks, and thats true, but you never not think, too, but you jump track too often to really consider yourself a “thinker.” Within the first fifteen minutes out of the water, she opted out and just let you ramble, your speed too much for her to keep up with. She rubbed your hand with her thumb, content with listening, the way it had been since you were younger.

Eventually you shut up, head light from what you half-jokingly assumed was a lack of oxygen, and began to write. Maybe it was premature to log your day down in your diary at two in the afternoon, but unless someone died, you couldn’t imagine anything else worth recording. Plus, the greatest thing about keeping a diary, in your opinion, was that hey, the rest of the pages are blank, you can just add more later if it’s important enough to break your mental “only one page a day” rule. Your cold fingers shook as you scribbled away, throwing in some extra words you deemed ‘fancy’ for the imaginary audience that would never read your entry to keep them entertained and make you look like a smart bitch. Yeah, you instinctively think in big words. What about it? 

You monologue in your head about your borderline self absorbed pride you took in your a-little-higher-than-average writing level while you worked, stopping only when you heard the telltale click of a camera shutter going off. You look to where Daphne sits on your right. You were going to fire off a sarcastic retort about taking a picture to make it last longer, but you can only pull off an incredulous, jokingly annoyed smile once you realize that that’s exactly what she just did, dumbass. She smiles back, almost like she watched your train of thought fire itself up and shut itself down the way it did. Your heart feels like a balloon in your chest, lightweight and threatening to fly away from you.

“I love you.” You say, because you can’t not say it anymore. Your shoulders slump as you do, little act making room to allow your sincerity to take the stage. You smile even wider, both because you’re happy you said it, and because you really love the image of a woman named Sincerity shoving the crowd out of her way as she climbs up into the spotlight with an upturned nose and an aura of self importance.

“I love you, too.” She says, mirroring your own relaxed demeanor, and you see her Sincerity joining hands with yours under the heat of the stage lights. 

The two of you hop on your bikes soon, bags thrown haphazardly onto your handlebars and damp suits hidden with baggy clothes. You ride back to her house with every intention of spending the night again, and you’re happy because you know she wouldn’t have it any other way. The ride wasn’t as fun as the one you had earlier, tired legs struggling to propel you two back up the few inclines it took to get to her large estate, but after a warm shower and a call to the pizza place down by the school, you both flopped down on her floor to watch a show until you were ready for bed. Despite the rest of the evening being just as happily uneventful as your lake trip, you didn’t write anything else down in your notebook.


End file.
